<!DOCTYPE html>
<html>
<head>
<meta charset="UTF-8">
<title>Dance With Me by MaidOfDishonor</title>
<style type="text/css">

body { background-color: #ffffff; }
.CI {
text-align:center;
margin-top:0px;
margin-bottom:0px;
padding:0px;
}
.center   {text-align: center;}
.cover    {text-align: center;}
.full     {width: 100%; }
.quarter  {width: 25%; }
.smcap    {font-variant: small-caps;}
.u        {text-decoration: underline;}
.bold     {font-weight: bold;}
</style>
</head>
<body>
<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/29381073">Dance With Me</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/MaidOfDishonor/pseuds/MaidOfDishonor'>MaidOfDishonor</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Miraculous Ladybug</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Emotional Infidelity, F/M, Pre-Canon, Slow Dancing</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2021-02-12</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2021-02-12</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-13 07:01:29</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Teen And Up Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>1,778</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/29381073</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/MaidOfDishonor/pseuds/MaidOfDishonor</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Emilie Agreste decides her husband is going to accompany her to a gala. Gabriel decides that Nathalie is going to come along, as well.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Emilie Agreste/Gabriel Agreste | Papillon | Hawk Moth, Gabriel Agreste | Papillon | Hawk Moth/Nathalie Sancoeur</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>6</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>26</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>Dance With Me</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>Hello! This is the first fan fiction I've ever posted online. </p><p>It takes place before Emilie ends up in her coma.</p><p>I hope you enjoy!</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>It was funny, attending a partly only to be working. And not as a hostess or a caterer, but as Gabriel Agreste’s executive assistant.<br/>
With her back straight and her shoulders back, Nathalie Sancoeur was planted on the fringes of the opulent ball room where Paris’s high society preened and posed for the cameras. Everyone from Audrey Bourgeois to Nadja Chamack to Jagged Stone was in attendance. And Nathalie wished with all her might that she was anywhere else.<br/>
Nathalie’s eyes bored into the back of Mr. Agreste’s head, where he was being paraded around the room by his wife, Emilie. Mrs. Agreste had a taste for these parties, for the spotlight and the company of those with influence. When she had heard that Audrey Bourgeois was hosting a charity gala for all of the notable faces in Paris, she had decided that she simply had to go, and if she was going, so was her husband. Furthermore, when it became clear that he couldn’t make an excuse to get out of this one, Mr. Agreste had practically begged Nathalie to come along. Of course, she had initially refused. She was determined not to give in, even when he’d offered her overtime and extra vacation days. But then he’d given her that smile, the charming one that had allowed him to marry into money and build an empire from the ground up. It was a smile that had become obscure as of late. Even Mrs. Agreste was seeing it less and less. But there Nathalie was, the full force of Gabriel Agreste’s soft eyes and winning smile focused on her.<br/>
In that moment, Nathalie prayed that nothing would take the light from his eyes.<br/>
Against her better judgement, Nathalie had conceded, because at the end of the day, Gabriel Agreste gets what he wants and those around him bear the consequences.<br/>
Never mind that just last week the tabloids had gotten ahold of a picture of the two of them in which Mr. Agreste was standing a bit too close and she was leaning in a bit to eagerly. The media had taken that and run with it, fabricating an entire affair out of an out of context image.<br/>
Even though she knew nothing had actually happened, Nathalie had still done her best to make herself scarce whenever Mrs. Agreste had been around this past week.<br/>
Even now, while Mrs. Agreste stood arm in arm with her husband, her sharp green eyes kept flitting to where Nathalie stood, and narrowed while she wondered what, exactly, she had done with her husband.<br/>
Nathalie just averted her eyes and pretended not to notice every time Mrs, Agreste, or anyone, for that matter, decided to look her way. All around the room, people whispered about the woman with the dark hair, and how she’d kept Mr. Agreste’s bed warm while his wife was away. How her wicked mouth had led the King of Fashion to sin.<br/>
And Gabriel was doing nothing to help himself. He, too, couldn’t stop looking her way. He winked every time his eyes found hers.<br/>
She could sense the vultures around the room counting the seconds he let his gaze linger.<br/>
Why on earth had she agreed to this?<br/>
Nathalie crossed her arms in front of herself, letting her fingernails bite into her biceps. Across the room, Mrs. Agreste’s lovely face had contorted into something twisted. With a pointed look in Nathalie’s direction, Mrs. Agreste pivoted, her sage green gown a tornado around her ankles. She grasped her husband’s candy-striped tie and pulled him down to her level, kissing him passionately for all the cameras to see.<br/>
Nathalie looked away, her chest unbearably tight.<br/>
She had done this to her self, after all.<br/>
The Agreste’s were dancing now, the picture of fidelity. Gabriel’s eyes didn’t leave his wife’s face for even a moment.<br/>
Warmth crept into Nathalie’s cheeks, her shirt suddenly abrasive against her too sensitive skin.<br/>
There were too many eyes on her.<br/>
This had never been in her job description.<br/>
Schooling her features and her gait, Nathalie skirted around the throng of puffed up politicians and celebrities. She made for a distant, dark hallway, the lights of the party causing stars to dance before her eyes.<br/>
When she was certain the shadows of the deserted hallway hid her from view, she let her shoulders fold in on themselves and allowed her carefully crafted composure to crumble.<br/>
"Snap out of it," she told herself. "This isn’t like you."<br/>
But she was already on the ground, her back against the wall and her chest heaving irregularly.<br/>
She felt her eyes slipping shut, and told herself she would only allow herself one minute to get it together, and no more.<br/>
Soft moonlight filtered through a skylight high above, illuminating and smoothing the planes of Nathalie’s weary face. The floor beneath her was cool to the touch, soothing her feverish skin.<br/>
“Had too much of the party already?” A deep, familiar voice washed over Nathalie’s ears, causing her eyes to snap open.<br/>
Gabriel Agreste stood framed in the doorway, blocking out the light from the revelry outside.<br/>
Nathalie took one deep breath, then another. Her lips curved into a gentle smile. “I feel a little out of my depth, that’s all. I don’t do well in crowds.”<br/>
Gabriel’s eyes found hers. “They’re not really my thing either. If Emilie didn’t enjoy them so much, I’d be content to stay home.” To Nathalie’s surprise, Mr. Agreste strode over to where she sat, lowering himself to the ground beside her. The tension in his broad shoulders melted away as he settled on the floor.<br/>
It was strange, seeing her boss, the mighty Gabriel Agreste, dressed in his best suit and sitting on the dusty floor in an abandoned hallway. Sharing a moonbeam with his assistant, whose heart was beating so fast she feared he could hear it.<br/>
Nathalie turned away from him, focusing on the distant music. “I guess we both do better alone.”<br/>
For a moment Gabriel said nothing, examining Nathalie’s face and the moonlight that played delicately on her hair, her neck, her cheeks. Then all at once, he was on his feet, his left hand outstretched. “Dance with me, Nathalie.”<br/>
“W-what?” Nathalie gazed up at him, at his open hand. His wedding ring glinted in the pale light.<br/>
“Dance with me. This is a gala, after all.”<br/>
“Sir, what about your wife?” Nathalie’s face was flooded with color.<br/>
“She’s off having fun.”<br/>
“Sir, be serious. Are you at all concerned with the optics? People already think…” She trailed off, unable to say it out loud.<br/>
“Yes, but we know there’s nothing happening.”<br/>
Nathalie’s breath hitched. “I’m hardly dressed for dancing.” She was suddenly painfully aware of how out of style her work outfit was. Her white button down shirt had been purchased at least five years ago. Her pumps had been scuffed so many times that she’d begun to fill them in with permanent marker. Her pencil skirt was in better shape, but it was a touch too short, especially if someone were to happen upon them…<br/>
Next to Gabriel, she looked like she was pretending to be something she wasn’t.<br/>
But as that thought crossed her mind, Gabriel let out a laugh its a cresting wave. His eyes shone, and he said, “Nonsense, Nathalie. You look lovely. In fact, I couldn’t keep my eyes off you tonight.”<br/>
“Sir, what a thing to say! Think of…” But the words caught in her throat, leaving her wondering what had possessed him to say such a thing.<br/>
Gabriel sighed. “If you really don’t want to, you din’t have to.”<br/>
Nathalie swallowed. “I never said I didn’t want to.”<br/>
Gabriel extended his hand again, that damned smile lighting up his face. “What on earth was holding you back. Miss Sancoeur?”<br/>
Everything, she wanted to say, as she placed her hand in his. He helped her to her feet, his hand gentle.<br/>
She had never noticed how much he actually towered over her.<br/>
Unsure of what to do next, Nathalie stood before Gabriel, listening for the soft music from the party.<br/>
Nathalie sucked in a sharp breath as Gabriel’s other hand came to rest on her hip. She could feel its warmth through the material of her shirt.<br/>
She let her own hand rest on his shoulder, trying to tough him as delicately as possible. “I’m not much of a dancer,” she whispered.<br/>
“There’s nothing to it. Just follow my lead.”<br/>
And then they were dancing, stepping in and out of the shadows that threatened to swallow them up. Nathalie couldn’t stop marveling at Gabriel’s closeness. It had been so long since she’d been held. His fingers rubbed slow circles into her back as he drew her closer. She felt his breath caress her face.<br/>
In that moment, Emilie did not exist, and Gabriel was not Nathalie’s boss, and Nathalie wasn’t plagued by guilt.<br/>
Wishing this moment would last forever, Nathalie swept the hand that had been held by Gabriel’s up his arm and around his neck. Without a moment of hesitation, he pulled her flush against himself.<br/>
Gabriel chuckled, his mouth inches from her ear. “You lied. You’re quite a good dancer.”<br/>
A delicious chill went down her spine when his breath tickled her ear. “I just have a good partner, that’s all.”<br/>
He leaned closer still, his lip softly brushing the shell of her ear. “Funny. I was going to say the same thing.”<br/>
Nathalie’s knees gave out, but Gabriel’s sturdy arms were there, keeping her from crashing down to earth. He kept her suspended, his nose bare inches from hers. 	One move, and she could be kissing him, and then-<br/>
And then what? Whatever happened tonight, by the time morning came, Gabriel would once again be doting on Emilie, and what had happened with Nathalie, whatever it meant to him, would never be mentioned again. He would keep his distance and let Nathalie suffer as she attempted to figure out what he was thinking.<br/>
And as soon as she figured herself out, he’d be back to push the boundaries further and further. And she’d let him, over and over. Because how could she not?<br/>
Before he could do something she would grow to regret, she found her footing and placed her hand on his face, her fingers soft. “I should be getting home.”<br/>
He offered no resistance as she extricated herself from his warm embrace. He knew she’d be there the next time he wanted something from her. Because Gabriel Agreste always gets what he wants.<br/>
But she was cold as she walked away, and he watched her go.</p>
  </div></div>
</body>
</html>